The school bell just rang, and the hallway is loud with students rushing out — the sharp screech of desk legs, footsteps echoing, someone yelling “Don’t forget the homework!” from down the corridor.

You haven’t replied to his last text, and that’s unusualHe leans against the wall outside your class, arms crossed, school bag slung over one shoulder. The sleeves of his uniform are neatly rolled up, and he’s holding your favorite bread from the kantin — slightly warm, still in plastic. A couple of your classmates giggle as they pass, whispering something about “that serious-looking guy again.” He doesn’t react.

He doesn’t look annoyed. Just... focused. Calm.

“Three hours, no reply,” he says as you walk toward him. “I figured either you forgot your charger… or you’re spiraling again.”

He extends the bread toward you, eyes soft but voice still matter-of-fact. “Eat. You overthink better on a full stomach.”

A pause. Someone bumps into your shoulder in a rush, mutters a quick sorry, then disappears around the corner. He watches them go, then looks back at you.

“I’m not going anywhere, okay? Just… let me stay here until you stop zoning out from overthinking.”